


rock, steady

by hibiscus_tea



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Coming In Pants, Drunk Sex, Established Relationship, Frottage, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Past Friends To Lovers, Size Kink, Slight Breath Play, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:30:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hibiscus_tea/pseuds/hibiscus_tea
Summary: "Shh," Hunk says again, their lips touching, so close they're exchanging breaths, "shh, honey, I'll kiss you, but you have to be quiet."





	rock, steady

 

  


Before they got together, before Hunk had stumbled out a confession in Keith's dad's repair shop over the broken down Buell 1125R between them - before Keith knew what Hunk's mouth felt like under his -

 

he'd spent a lot of time wondering.

 

And Hunk always kisses so, so carefully.

 

They're a whole fresh three months into their relationship, and Keith has never wanted someone so much. With Hunk away in his first year of culinary school, and Keith back home at the fire station, they've been apart for most of it.

 

But Keith has a week of vacation and he's spending it halfway across the country sleeping  in Hunk's tiny navy-blue dorm room, and meeting all his friends.

 

Which involves a little more alcohol and a little less privacy than Keith was hoping for.

 

Three-in-the-morning on a Saturday finds them on third year Matt Holt's couch after a night out, kissing in the dark with one too many fruity drinks in their blood.

 

"Shh," whispers Hunk, "Keith we can't do this here, everyone will know."

 

"Do what?" Keith mumbles between open mouthed kisses to Hunk's neck. "We're not doing anything."

 

"I'm pretty sure, uh- this counts as something," says Hunk, but he sounds a little breathless with Keith laid out on top of him, and he won't stop sliding his big hands up and down Keith's back over his shirt.

 

Keith isn't an exhibitionist. If one of Matt's roommates came out for a glass of water and saw them, the mood would instantly be dead.

 

But he's drunk, and Hunk's hands on him feel so good, and his face is tucked into the warmth of his boyfriend's neck and- "But I _missed_ you," he says; admits it to the line of Hunk's jaw and shuts his eyes tight against the quiet dark.

 

There's a shift below him, Hunk's hands running up his body to find his face and cup his cheeks, touching at his mouth before kissing him. It's messy, but it's sweet and soft, and when Hunk opens his mouth, Keith coaxes it _deep_.

 

"I missed you, too," whispers Hunk, tender like his big hands on Keith's face don't make his cheeks warm, his body hot. "I missed you so much, Keith."

 

"We can just kiss, we don't have to- please just let me kiss you," Keith says to the space between their mouths. Hunk's body is so steady and warm beneath him, those thick thighs parted to accommodate for Keith's body between them. He's wrapped up in the scent, in the feeling and when Hunk kisses him again he lets out an accidental little moan, loud in the room.

 

"Shh," Hunk says again, their lips touching, so close they're exchanging breaths, "shh, honey, I'll kiss you, but you have to be quiet."

 

His palms are big and warm pressed to Keith's cheeks, drawing him in to kiss the achy little moan off his spit-shiny mouth.

 

The only light in the room is from the half cracked curtain, the moonlight falling in a thick stripe across the couch. It's enough to make out the lines of Hunk's face, the orange of his headband with its loosening knot.

 

 _Just kissing_ \- but Keith can't help but squirm when he's allowed to lick into Hunk's mouth and cling at his broad shoulders. He tries to keep his breaths quiet, but everything is loud in the small living room and the sound of messy kisses is unmistakable.

 

Keith is needy for it.

 

He can't help it. It's been two months alone with only his own hands for company and if he's truthful, well-

 

He wants to get dicked so _bad_.

 

His body feels so good, a slow tingle running down his spine, over his hips when Hunk detours to kiss and tongue his neck, wet and hot and perfect. Hunk always moves so carefully, like he's thinking through all of his movements, careful with them, careful with _Keith_.

 

And Keith is so warm with the attention, and aching sweet and needy between his legs, his cock filling slowly. He can't find it in himself to be ashamed when Hunk turns to kiss him and he moans, digging his fingers into the meat of broad shoulders. It's the way Hunk carefully touches a finger to the corner of his mouth, brushing aside the lock of hair caught along his bottom lip, and it's the big hand between his shoulder blades, holding him close.

 

"Hunk," he whispers.

 

They’d shoved off their jeans to get to bed half an hour ago, tossed their jackets over the low coffee table. And so the bare skin of their legs as Keith shifts, the thin fabric of their boxers - in the dark like this with his blood warm and Hunk’s mouth under his - even that is too much sensation.

 

Hunk kisses him again, does this thing where he takes Keith’s ruined bottom lip and sucks at it with his perfect, hot mouth. Keith can’t manage to hold back his groan, grasping at Hunk’s thick bicep.

 

“Shh,” Hunk quiets him, but his lips are brushing Keith’s and the motion is more erotic than it is a deterrent. A shiver runs over Keith, and he bites artlessly at Hunk’s jaw, sucks a mark at his throat.

 

“Oh fuck,” whimpers Hunk, his hands on Keith’s shoulders, his ribcage, then his hips, squeezing. Keith can’t help it, he ruts his cock down against Hunk’s hip. He’s just a little more than half hard, and he knows Hunk can feel it by the sharp intake of breath, the shakey groan. “Oh, God, okay-”

 

And then they’re turning on the couch, Hunk shifting them with a grip on his waist until he finds himself with his back against the cushions and Hunk’s weight crowding him in.

 

Keith is not the type of person who is easily manhandled when he doesn’t want to be. In Hunk’s hands, he melts.

 

They settle in together, one of Keith’s thighs fitted between Hunk’s, the other leg hooked tight at the small of Hunk’s back. The position brings them close and warm and intimate, but it has the added repercussions of pressure on Keith’s filling cock, right up against the softness of Hunk’s hip.

 

“Oh, this is a bad idea,” breathes Hunk, his forehead pressed to Keith’s temple, “oh man, oh man.” But his breath is warm and sweet against Keith’s temple and his hair brushes Keith’s forehead and they meet in a deep, wet kiss that makes Keith’s toes curl.

 

He shudders at the heat curling fierce and low in his belly, feeling Hunk hard against his thigh. The pressure and hardness of it makes him suck in a breath in response, and he grabs blindly at Hunk’s shoulder, the back of his head and curls his fingers in his hair.

 

“Fuck,” Keith breathes, quiet and needy at the blood-hot, solid press of his boyfriend’s erection. Then Hunk shifts his hips down, rubbing his thick cock against Keith’s bare thigh, and the weight it is a promising line through the thin fabric of boxers.

 

Drunk and sleepy and unbearably turned on, Keith feels hazy with need in a way that he only ever gets with Hunk. He wants Hunk to rub off against him, any part of him, he wants it so badly he could beg for it.

 

Instead he moans quiet and rough, as Hunk kisses his neck, pressing his own fingers tightly over his kiss-bruised mouth.

 

He keeps them there, eyes shut tight, other hand sneaking down to grab a handful of Hunk’s ass to feel the way his hips stutter.

 

Keith is sweating, pressed up against his boyfriend in the dark, so completely, perfectly trapped. It’s so difficult to stop the noises, even Hunk is letting out the quiet, breathy little grunts with every shift of his hips.

 

“Keith, honey,” he whispers, mouth at Keith’s hot cheeks, “shift your hips for me.”

 

Keith lets out a hot breath between the press of his fingers, and does as he’s told, making a cut-off noise too loud in the room when Hunk angles their hips together, rubs his thick, full cock right up against Keith’s through the fabric.

 

“Oh fuck,” whispers Keith. He can feel the heat flood his cheeks, and his leg tightens at Hunk’s waist as he biting at his knuckles like he can stop making noise over how _good_ it feels. “Oh fuck, oh-”

 

“Shh,” whispers Hunk, nervous and hushed against Keith’s cheek, but his hips don’t still. “Keith, God, baby you have to be quiet, my friends are going to hear us-”

 

“Don’t stop-” whispers Keith, fingers digging into the plush of Hunk’s ass. The drag of their cocks through the thin fabric is dirty-filthy-good and there’s precome beading at Keith’s tip, dampening his boxers and it all feels rushed and rough and floaty from the alcohol.

 

He’s breathing in little sips of air through the white-knuckle press of his fingers, and he feels needy like he does when Hunk has him slick and open and waiting to be full.

 

“Oh god, I want to suck you so badly,” he blurts.

 

“Shit,” swears Hunk, “shit, shit, shit,” and then one of his big, warm hands is fumbling to press over Keith’s mouth, pressing up against his nose, too, making it difficult to breathe. The tiniest spike of adrenaline shoots through him at the feeling, and without his permission, his hips buck up as much as they can under Hunk’s weight, and he moans deep and wanting.

 

Hunk’s palm shifts to let the air in through Keith’s nose, with a whispered: “Sorry, sorry, but shhh,” but Keith is gone, wriggling and arching under Hunk’s weight, rubbing his cock up against Hunk’s thicker one, his mouth slightly parted under the pressure of a palm to tease the shape of his teeth against the skin.

 

He shoves a hand between them, reaching down between their drunk, sweat-damp bodies to grab artlessly at Hunk’s cock, sneaking his hand through the slit of his boyfriend’s boxers to grab ahold of the length. It’s thick and full, and it throbs in Keith’s hand. Hunk lets out a muffled whimper, but Keith takes in a sharp breath and _moans_.

 

“Oh god,” breathes Hunk, but nothing feels like it matters to Keith when he’s got whiskey in his blood and a hand on his boyfriend’s dick. He reaches into his own boxers to shift his own cock up against his stomach. The head peeks out wet and flushed and shiny in the moonlit living room, and Hunk shakes out an overwhelmed sigh when he gets up on his elbows and looks between them.

 

Keith closes his eyes and tilts his head back as he gets a hand on Hunk’s ass and coaxes his hips to move again. This time the head of Hunk’s cock slides against his bare, Keith’s hand around Hunk’s cock to guide their lengths in a perfect grind.

 

A whimper edges out around the grip of Hunk’s hand on his face, and Keith squeezes artlessly at Hunk’s cock in his hand, thighs shivering with every perfect, direct slide that nudges over his frenulum. His nipples ache to be touched, but it’s secondary to the build of sensation, to the pressure of Hunk’s hand on his face and the line of his muscled arms in the half-dark as he braces himself to rut down against Keith’s body.

 

 _I’m gonna come_ , Keith tries to say, but it comes out a messy, wavering whimper against Hunk’s palm, his thighs shaking in little spasms.

 

“Shh, it’s okay, I feel it,” whispers Hunk, “come on. I missed you so much, I wanna- I wanna see-”

 

Keith shakes apart like that, under Hunk’s soft gaze, breathing in frantic little sips through the seal of Hunk’s palm. Despite no one touching him, it feels so good he can barely think for a moment, going blank as he arches his back and his cock pulses, coming untouched over his shirt and his stomach where the hem has bunched up.

 

“Oh,” breathes Hunk, “oh, _oh_ ,” taking in little shivery breaths as he rubs their cock’s together, getting Keith’s hot come messy between them. His grip goes so strong on Keith’s face for a moment that Keith becomes incredibly aware that he couldn’t get away from this grip and he gives one last little shiver of an aftershock, come dripping from his slit as his toes curl.

 

Hunk’s hand retracts from his face from like an apology, but Keith doesn’t waste any time. The thick cock in his hand is getting harder, flexing and full, and Keith looks between their bodies, wets his palm with the precome dripping from the head of Hunk’s dick and jerks him a little rough, a little clumsily with the angle and the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

 

It works out just perfect, though, because Keith gets to watch his boyfriend’s face screw up, mouth drop open, and get his thigh crushed between two bigger, muscled ones as Hunk rubs his cock against it.

 

“F-fuck,” whimpers Hunk, so quiet and breathless that no one else could ever catch it, only Keith, like this, looking up at Hunk’s messy hair and and furrowed brows and full mouth.

 

“I love you,” Keith whispers, just as quiet, and Hunk comes with his mouth tight to muffle a moan, getting Keith’s shirt and thighs and boxers messy with it.

 

He stays up like that for a moment, breathing, and then he sits up and pulls his shirt off, tossing it to the floor. Keith lies there in the afterglow, thighs and stomach wet with come, and admires his shirtless boyfriend in the barely-there light, and the way his breaths rise and fall in his chest.

 

Leaning down, they’re both a little sweaty when Hunk finds Keith’s mouth for a kiss, and Keith traces lazy patterns on his own hip for the tiny ripples of sensation it gives. He nudges one last chaste kiss to the corner of Hunk’s mouth, and then Hunk gets up on wobbly legs for the bathroom.

 

Less than a minute later Hunk is back, the lines of him familiar and soft in the unfamiliar room, and he draws a damp, warm cloth against Keith’s thighs and stomach.

 

“Isn’t Matt gonna notice we used his towel?” Keith observes, too drowsy to really worry.

 

“Nah,” whispers Hunk, “I’m gonna steal it and sneaky-wash it. I’ll give it back next time I’m here.”

 

“Okay,” yawns Keith.

 

Hunk hides the used towel semi-successfully in the pocket of his tossed-aside jacket, which is gross but Keith isn’t going to judge him for it. Instead, he takes Hunk’s hand and kisses the impression of teeth marks he’d left there, pulling Hunk gently to lie down with him.

 

“Hey,” whispers Hunk. He touches up under Keith’s shirt, sliding his hands up to push it up until Keith gets the message, and pulls it over his head. It lands somewhere on the floor, but Hunk is already kissing soft and sweet in a line up from his belly button, detouring to drop a kiss on each pec.

 

“Hm?” Keith posits, sleepy.

 

“I love you,” whispers Hunk, shifting and tilting his head so that their noses brush, “I really, really love you.” Soft, slightly sweat-damp skin sticks as their chests fit together, but Keith turns easily on the small couch and tangles their legs together, confident that Hunk’s arm looped over his waist will keep him in place.

 

He touches their foreheads together, and cups the back of Hunk’s head, fingers curling in sweat-damp roots. Eyes closed, Keith breathes him in, tilting for a kiss, slow and sweet, nothing like the urgency of a few minutes ago.

 

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” he whispers when their mouths part with a tiny sound, “you make me so happy.”

 

A smile breaks out across Hunk’s face, eyes still closed. “Aw man,” he whispers, “you make me the happiest, too.”

 

Keith’s heart aches with it. With a quiet kind of overwhelming happiness, with the way their bodies fit together, with the knowledge that he’ll have to go back home in a few days.

 

But he falls asleep in Hunk’s arms, and this feels like home, too.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> this is for my heith anon... love u


End file.
